poemsbyliz

Murder of the Soul

Her face is sunken in.

Her eyes are shadows.

Her mouth is a sealed tomb.

Her skin looks beaten to a sickly color.

 

She just lays there dead

almost.

 

A tear streams down her cheekbone.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

No, she’s obviously not.

She nods her head.

Why would she do that?

 

He continues,

killing her soul

softly.